


Bury a playmate

by Little_pinky_fox



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Dark, Hurt Armitage Hux, Hurt/Comfort, Interrogation, Jedi Ben Solo, Kidnapping, M/M, Pain, Psychological Torture, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-04-19 18:04:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19137877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_pinky_fox/pseuds/Little_pinky_fox
Summary: Because I'm the monster in the midst of the gentle, my little Armitage, I'll snuggle up against you but you will not know. I'll slain you, slowly but surely. And one day it will be for you: checkmate





	Bury a playmate

The light hurts. Breathe too. His head is spinning and he feels his stomach tense as acid bile rises up his esophagus. The young man coughs and spits, moans and curls up on himself once more. He has not eaten or drunk for 48 hours, and he is already delirious with dehydration, too weak to even lift his head.

The seconds seem like hours, it seems to have been abandoned for ages, in the dark, without even an explanation. Finally, the door opens and a shadow enters his cell, which he barely discerns through his half-closed eyelids. He tries to restrain the groan (Of pain? Of fear?) That he fails to pronounce, in the end simply coughing weakly, trying to moisten his dry lips without success: his tongue is pasty and just as dry, with a taste who would have made him vomit again if he had something left in his stomach.

The voice of the man who speaks to him and low and deep, almost soothing given the situation:

“Lieutenant Hux? Can you hear me ? I'm sorry for the treatment you had to go through, but I want to make it easier. ''

A hand goes behind his head and gently raises it and a glass is pushed against his lips. Water provides his tired brain, and he does not even think that it could be poisoned as he swallows desperately as it flows down his throat. Once the container moves away, he coughs, fails to thank his kidnapper before remembering that he is just responsible for his condition and to remain silent.

Once accustomed to the new clarity of the room, Hux finally managed to observe the man who faced him and could not hide his surprise at seeing that he looked young, perhaps even younger than him. The slightly rounded face of adolescence, the nose a little too prominent and surprisingly luscious lips for a male individual, it was studded with moles that formed constellations surprising on his tanned skin. His black hair was in battle, clean but tangled in knots that suggested that they could see little light from a comb. It was however the color of his clothes that made him realize how much he was in the shit: orange, a screaming orange who shouted his belonging to ...

Resistance. He had been taken prisoner by the resistance.

The memories were rather vague, a diplomatic mission where he accompanied an elder on a peaceful planet, he had simply fallen asleep in his hotel room in the capitol, protected. Until he's brought here. Against his will, although the only certainty he had was to have been moved via a ship at one time or another. Why him ? Was his general here too, prisoner in another dark room?

The scum, once he noticed that he had slightly recovered the spirits, spoke again:

"Happy to see you again among us" (a mocking smile, which he immediately hated). I guess the trip was not as enjoyable as expected. "

Hux was content with a murderous look, a nasty grin on his pale face as he tried to regain his composure, straightening up against the metal wall, ignoring the painful pinch of his hungry belly. In a raspy voice, he asked with a pinch of air:

"What does resistance want from me? "

The man smiled before leaning towards him to whisper, the words like a sweet poison as they came out of his angelic lips:

"More than you can imagine"

*. *. *. *. *

There was someone. Someone in his head.

He struggles, screams. There is a metallic taste in his mouth, he must have bitten himself. His chained foot slaps something soft, and someone grumbles, withdraws a little before pushing his broken spirit a little bit further.

His body is spasmed in agony as he can no longer breathe, his fingers desperately scratching the granite floor.

"He will not last much longer. "

A feminine voice, worried and tense.

" I'm almost there. "

Help ?

"Continue then. "

No.

*. *. *. *. *

He never imagined he could resist that long. Low was usually a fair enough word to describe it. Naturally followed by adjectives such as intelligent, meticulous, attentive, but her puny physique was often the first thing people noticed. Yet in the midst of all this pain, all that blood lost, he clung to life so desperately that he could not understand where he found all that strength.

The pain had finally disappeared, his white mind, his thoughts a faint buzzing as he was just a body lying on the cold, trembling, frightened floor.

*. *. *. *. *

A bed, warm sheets. No hunger or thirst. No colder, just the softness of the blankets and a garment. Clean, skin smooth and stripped of any blood stain, a slight smell of bacta that hovers in the air. He is in good hands, safe. His father looks at him scornfully, sitting on a stool on his right, furious no doubt of his capture. He has nothing to do with it, he has survived and that is all that matters to him.

"What did you tell them? "

The voice of Brendol Hux I is accusing, cold. He got acquainted for only a few minutes and the interrogation was already coming. He whispered; his voice too broken to speak louder:

"Nothing, nothing at all. They did not ask me any questions »

His father seems dubious, watching him stall between two pillows with a painful grimace before starting his interrogation again:

"Then why did not they kill you? "

Armitage sighs, his eyes lost in the vagueness as he tries to piece together some pieces of misplaced memories of his imprisonment:

"I do not know father. "

*. *. *. *. *

General Hux observes Starkiller's plans in trying to ignore his migraine. In recent times, she was more and more present, and he did not doubt that the doses of stimulants that flowed in his veins were largely responsible.

He pointed to the thermal storage sheet before explaining to the engineers the improvements that should be made before commissioning, pleased to see them taking notes carefully to carry out his orders. He then sat down again to let his lieutenant speak, explaining the budgets they had and the main sources of revenue.

_Thermal, thermal tanks. Fault._

He waited patiently for the meeting to end, discussing some technical details with the engineers, before returning to his private quarters to cool off. The buzz in his brain had subsided as he stopped working, further evidence that he was overworking. It would have to rest a few cycles once the construction of the base completed. An exhausted general could not effectively manage his troops, and he was well aware of this.

*. *. *. *. *

Starkiller is lost, Hux is in the middle of a snowy plain, advancing with difficulty as his broken leg slows his return to the shuttles. He's scared, for the first time in a long time. There will be no one to protect him from Snoke's wrath, no one to heal his wounds after the painful reprimand he knows he's coming. Maybe he'll die under the blows, who knows.

He does not know how the rebels had the plans. A spy, no doubt, that he would kill if he could. He simply saw a man, green lightsaber cutting like butter in his loyal soldiers, come forward with a young woman with black hair across the base, accompanied by pilots. The Jedi has caught his attention. He only saw it from afar as he was overseeing the base defense, but despite the distance he felt he recognized it. He had probably met him during his imprisonment a decade ago, even if he does not remember. They have since left, leaving the planet to its own destruction, proud of their victory.

The general returns to the present moment as his left leg gives way under his weight, and he howls when he collapses, clenching his teeth against the pain. He hates being so weak. He is a general, he has thousands of men under his orders, he is supposed to be someone strong, authoritarian and powerful. Yet there he is, the waterlogged uniform, the blue lips and the bloody leg, refusing to try to get up just for fear of the supreme leader. He knows that if he joins him, it's more pain. But here is death, is not it still more cruel?

A shadow is looming in front of him and he looks up hopefully. Unfortunately, this is not the medical help he had expected. The Jedi is there, the overhanging it of all its height, its deformed face framing of wild hair, its dark eyes seeming to see in the depths of its soul. He crouches, bringing a hand to his face, his thumb gently stroking his cheek. Numbed by the cold and the pain, he lets it go without moving, his stomach knotted.

"Armitage, you've grown so much since the last time we saw each other ... You've been a good little soldier, well in spite of yourself. Your mind is brilliant, a pity for you that it belongs to me. But ... I'm afraid you'll be of no use to me anymore, Snoke will not trust you anymore after this failure ... "

Hux's eyes widened as he realized what the man was hearing. His mind. The migraines and the warm, peaceful and comforting little voice that sometimes murmured ... He murmured:

"Through me, you have seen everything is not it? You were the spy »

The Jedi shook his head and laughed, his eyes sparkling:

"It's over, I win."

**Author's Note:**

> And here, a little bit of nothing at all, which I hope you will like. Feel free to leave a small comment, for a question or just a remark, and to leave congratulations if you liked!
> 
> This is my first one shot, and not my native language so I apologize for the big grammar mistakes that have slipped into this work.


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